Midnight
by Zayz
Summary: LJ. Just a little bit of useless, kind of mature fluff - there's no really no description for it besides that. R&R?


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A/N: I dunno why I wrote this…I think I read a couple of M rated fics one night and decided to try one myself (probably while being exhausted, I imagine), so I wrote it, read it again, hated it, and then forgot about it. Tonight, I rediscovered it, brushed it up to the best of my abilities, and posted it.

Although I wouldn't get used to this type of fan fic from me, try to enjoy it & even though you don't have to, review gently. I always get touchy when I post stuff like this up - probably has something to do with the fact that I'm fourteen and should not be attempting a piece like this anyway. xD

**Kudos to Liz (XxIcexX) for picking on me for portions of this, by the way. Thanks for telling me how it really was for once, darling!!**

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He always looked utterly gorgeous under the moonlight from her window on the hard floor of their shared Head's dormitory, with the palest of icy effervescence illuminating his face at just the right angles.

Well, he looked utterly gorgeous nearly all the time – even when he had five o'clock shadow and the imprint of his blankets on his cheek in the morning – but she liked him best here, at night, when it was just them two together. No responsibilities, no friends, no previous obligations – just them. These were her favorite hours of the twenty four she endured each day, and she never wasted them. It was shameful to admit, but she lived for them, craved them, and dreamt about them. What could she say? She was a teenager who was honestly, truly, and ardently in love – she should not have to be held responsible for her rash and single-minded actions.

She smiled at him now, admiring the tiny slopes and valleys of his well-crafted face and stroking each spot that caught her eye in a surprisingly tender manner, considering how angst-ridden and overwhelmed she customarily felt when she first caught sight of him. His skin was so soft – _he_ was so soft – but he looked much sturdier when he was out and about with people that were not her. She liked his vulnerability; she liked having privileges over him that no one else had. It made her want him even more.

He was quiet tonight – at ease, even. Normally, he was not; normally, he would pounce on her the moment the portrait closed behind her, and the remainder of their time together passed in a feverish, anxious blur, fueled by the need to both speed it up with shameless greed and slow it down to make it last longer. She wondered why he had stopped so soon, and a part of her ached to start up the moment again, trigger off their animal instincts as they both enjoyed doing, but her rationale had decided to hold her back; she spoke instead, her voice hoarse from disuse for the past forty five minutes.

"Are you all right?" she asked him, brushing his hair out of his eyes so that she could see him better.

"I am," he responded, tucking a strand of her own hair behind her ear. "I've rarely been better, actually." His smile was both tender and mischievous as he rubbed the warm expanse of her back with the palm of his sweaty hand.

"I know what you mean," she agreed, her eyes fluttering from open to closed from the effect of his fingers – they undoubtedly had more power over her than they should, but somehow, she was willing to accept her fate with open arms. To keep herself in his company as a young woman with at least half a coherent brain though, she climbed a little further on top of him and closed the small distance between their faces at this point. She relaxed the moment their mouths met, but she could feel him tighten his hold on her ever so slightly.

He tasted so good – too good. She would never be able to get used to the way his lips enveloped hers, moist and temperate, filling her with emotions so strong, she was afraid of them. When he kissed slowly, as he was doing at present, she could feel the raw yearning bubble up within her stomach, poisoning her mind with its fortitude; it was controllable, but not by very much. Currently, it was inching towards too much, but she didn't particularly care at the moment; all she was capable of doing was kissing, and she would do so with gratification.

He broke away after several minutes of indulgence before he looked back at her, his half-smile positively mesmerizing in the fitting half-light. His lips were parted indistinctly, as though he was about to say something, but he didn't; instead, his eyes flashed with the hunger she knew was brewing inside of her too, and within a moment, she was underneath him and he had disappeared into her neck.

Her heart skipped several beats, and her breath caught in her throat like a rabbit in a trap, but she didn't pay that any attention – as a more welcome alternative, she tilted her head back, willingly leaving her shoulders and throat to his mercy. This was a fact he was happy to take advantage of – his tongue was at work immediately, and she let it, content with listening to the low intimacy of the sounds he was making as he went and feeling her way around the hard muscles of his chest. He had pushed all of his weight into her, each part of his body fitting perfectly within hers, but the fact that there were no spaces separating them only excited her, and made her feel as if they were _truly_, without any room for doubt or speculation, made for each other. She even released a giggle as he smoothly made his way down to the center of her chest.

He looked up at her face as he adjusted himself slickly for a better position on her, his eyes playful, but passionate; she had aroused him, and nothing would stop him besides getting to his destination. What that was, even he didn't know. Deciding to pause momentarily though, he asked her, "What did I do?"

"Astounded me," she answered flirtatiously.

A faint note of wicked waywardness coloured his tone as he promised her, "I can do much more than just astound you, Lils."

With this, he plunged his face into her stomach and blew vigorously into it, making her shriek with mirth. She would have pleaded for him to let her go, but she wasn't able to – her laughter was so relentless, she couldn't even hear it anymore. Tears clung to her lashes as she doubled up and tried to swat him away, but he was pleased with where he was; his teeth had found her belly button, and were busy exploring it now, with her as just the helpless, lust-filled victim to whom it belonged to.

But, when he began to rub her abdomen very shortly after, that was when she recognized his actions – he knew the most vulnerable spot she had by now, which was near her pelvic bone, and he found it at once with his talented fingers. His face returned to her neck, and without any conscious effort, she was moaning – loudly, in ways only he knew how to invoke. They started as disjointed sounds that amounted to nothing, but as soon as he pressed his hips to that area of her body, those sounds became his name; it didn't take long for her to start screaming it into the still air of the room they were in, her tone of voice clearly begging for him to both stop and continue. He preferred the latter of the two.

Purposefully, his hands attached themselves next to her waist and swung her over so that she was on top of him once more; she was quick to tangle her legs up in his, admiring the warm, smooth feel of them against her own. His smiling lips sought out and successfully caught her own as he finally began to push his way into her, his presence intoxicating both from the interior and the exterior.

As he had done on many a previous occasion, he kissed away the half-articulate jargon in her brain and whatever idiotically stubborn part of her was still somehow insisting that she should go to back to bed now. He was enviously good at it; he was the only person in the world who could do this to her whenever he pleased and not make her feel anything but pleasure from it. Nothing else ever mattered to her when she was with him – all that occupied her mind was him, and she wasn't going to be heard complaining about it any time soon.

They lay together then – exhausted, perspiring freely but blissful nonetheless – right where they were on the maroon floor, not bothering to go back to their respective mattresses as they drifted closer and closer into slumber. It wasn't the first time they'd ever passed away an evening in this fashion, but it still felt like it was; everything was new with him, because it meant something to him each and every time.

He loved her; he wanted to be with her in more ways than anyone else had been, and he was not afraid of what he felt. She sometimes was, but his boldness made her bold too – he made her soar higher than she could have ever gone on her own, and he not only knew it, but impelled her to continue to make it so. It took a special boy to do such a thing without being told, but she'd always known he was special; it only took one look at him, even on her most stubborn days, and she was confident with the notion straight away.

She planned on remaining in this position for the rest of the night hours – interwoven with him and cuddled up in his arms, clothes cast aside even at this time, since she had nothing to hide from him in their private dormitory anyway. But, as she prepared herself for slumber, she could not help but admire the moonlight on his calm, almost-sleeping face before she retired until morning. It had a way of making him look young, innocent, and childlike before her when he had been making love to her only minutes before.

She liked that change in him; it made her remember the little kid she'd fallen in love with and appreciate the man she was still in love with even more than she already did.

Plus, she liked staring at him in pretty much any light; regardless of the type, they all worked wonders on his uniquely beautiful features.

She kissed him once on his nose before her eyes shut for good tonight, and left her fingers in his hair to play with his raven locks while they took their well-deserved lie-in. There were only twenty four hours more left until she could start over and do this all again, if they were in the mood to, which they almost always were.

There was a certain comfort in this fact, and it was this comfort that finally carried her off to sleep.


End file.
